Voldemort
by 340997394
Summary: What was Voldemort's life like when he was a child, between the memories that Dumbledore showed Harry in the Pensieve? I think Tom Riddle, and later, Voldemort, is an interesting enough character to deserve a story for himself!
1. The Birth

It was December the thirty-first, New Year's Eve, and the weather was icy and cold, as it had been for a while. In the heart of London, there was an orphanage, where a young woman, more commonly referred to as Mrs. Cole, had just started working.

Another young girl, this one more commonly referred to as Ms. Gaunt, though she would much rather be Mrs. Riddle, stumbled up the frozen steps. Her clothes were ragged and worn, although not much could be seen through the snow that covered them, and if a person was so nosy as to notice anything, they would have noticed her large, bulging stomach; Ms. Gaunt was going to, very clearly, have a child.

She knocked desperately, though weakly, on the door. Luckily for her, the former young girl had been scolding a child who had wandered downstairs to celebrate New Year's, and could hear her faint knocking.

"Hello, dear," she said, and saw the woman's large stomach. Even in the short time Mrs. Cole had been working here, she had already received many cases where a woman stumbled in, ready to give birth.

"Well, don't just stand there, come in," said Mrs. Cole, not unkindly. The latter young woman, who Mrs. Cole now saw was very pale, hobbled in meekly and collapsed on the nearest chair.

"How are you, honey?" asked Mrs. Cole, trying to make polite conversation so that the woman would feel more comfortable during the last moments of her life. She knew that not many survived their child when they came to the orphanage; that was why they came in the first place.

The girl simply nodded, and lowered her hood, clearly getting warmer in the orphanage, which was not anything special, but the children here were reasonably well-cared for and comfortable. She seemed to approve the place her child would be growing up; she had not grown up anywhere better.

She leaned back, and relaxed. "And yourself?" she now replied.

"Fine, thank you. You are here for the child?"

"Yes," she said, fondly, though a little sadly, rubbing her stomach. "I hope he looks like his papa."

Mrs. Cole did not disagree; with the girl's uninteresting, unkempt brown hair, sallow face, and gaunt features, Mrs Cole hoped for the child's sake that he was like his father as much as possible. Unless the father was somehow worse, which, while not impossible, thought Mrs Cole, was highly unlikely.

"Was his father handsome?"

"Oh, yes," said the girl, sorrow in her eyes. "I'm going to name him after his father. Tom, Tom Riddle. That'll be his name. And," she paused for a second, seeming unsure, then said, "and Marvolo, for my father. Make sure that's his name!' she said firmly, as though Mrs. Cole might forget.

_Marvolo?_ Thought Mrs. Cole. _That's a weird name –like from a circus or something!_

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," repeated Mrs. Cole.

"Yes," she said, the sorrow still in her eyes. There was a pause, until she started gasping. "He's coming," she said simply.

Mrs. Cole helped her give birth. When she did not die immediately after that, Mrs. Cole began to hope that perhaps this child was not to be an orphan after all.

But Mrs. Cole was proved to be wrong, the little baby's mother died less than ten minutes later."Rest in peace," she said, before picking off the crying baby, wrapping him in his sheets and picking up the phone to call a contact who buried people. These people didn't even get a funeral –if someone cared enough about you to come, you would leave your child to them instead of dropping it off in an orphanage.

Next she called a person who would get the child's documents sorted out; like his birth certificate. She made an appointment for him to come the next day, in the afternoon.

It was an ordinary day, even this woman dying wasn't out of place, at the orphanage.

**AN: so, what do you think? I thought it would be interesting to have a story for just Voldemort, but comment if  
>you disagree. And if you agree, comment that and tell me when the next chapter should take place; I'm not<br>going to write 365 chapters about each day of the year as Voldemort is a baby, I thought about skipping till  
>he was a bit older? Review, please!<strong>

**Also, I can't think of a name for the orphanage. If you have any ideas, please tell me!**


	2. First Magic and First Snake

It was two years later, but the orphanage hadn't changed much...well, at all. The only noticeable change was that the previous matron retired and Mrs. Cole got promoted to get her job. The running of the orphanage did not change one bit; dying pregnant women still came to have their children on a monthly basis, the food was still lacking in nutrients, and the inmates of the orphanage still had to wear the same shabby, ragged, grey tunic-uniform as always.

Another change was that three brothers had been abandoned here. Their story was sad, but not unheard of. Their stepmother stole their father's fortune after their biological mother died of some type of disease, ran away never to be seen again, leaving her spoiled stepchildren in the harsh, cruel streets of London. As the authorities were not aware of this, the orphanage (**AN, I still need a name for it)** took in three more mouths to feed.

These boys, tired of not having their every wish come true on a silver platter, looked for someone to take it out on. They had been taught that orphans were below them back home, after all.

Tom Riddle was easily the smallest two year old there was; firstly, he had just turned two, second, he had been raised with no proper food all his life and even in the womb his mother hadn't had exactly what you would call a healthy diet. Still, he had other defences lurking up his sleeve...

However, as these defences weren't on display for the whole world to know, the new boys decided he was an easy target; he was small yet old enough to be able to talk and thus show some reaction other than crying. The new boys should have known that fate wasn't so cruel as to leave a helpless orphan alone like that...although maybe it should have.

"Hey, boy," said the eldest of new boys, "you've been messing with the Whalleys, have you?"

Riddle didn't even know what "Whalleys" were (he had never heard of a family name being used for more than one person before) and was evidently confused. "What?"

"He said you've been messing with us!" said the middle boy angrily. He had always had quite a temper and he had now exploded. Unfortunately for Riddle, it just happened to be while he was around and that the eldest brother had deemed him an excellent first victim.

When Whalleys got angry they didn't go for half measures. The middle boy lifted Riddle up by the collar of his hand-me-down sweater, which was not hard considering he was eight years older than Riddle and how Riddle was tiny.

Suddenly, all three of the Whalleys were hanging upside-down and looking up (or rather, it seemed that way to them when they were actually looking down) at Riddle. "I didn't do anything to you, but I wish I had. You had no right to pick me up like that and I will get revenge!"

The Whalleys were mostly shocked about a two year old speaking like an adult to be scared of the little boy, but they really should have been. In fact, they should have ran away from the orphanage and never come back, but unfortunately for them they judged based on size, which was not a good thing as they had just somehow been levitated upside-down apparently magically by a very small person.

Tom Riddle was in his room. He was fuming. So a few bloody idiots thought they could get the best of him, was that so? He would get his revenge if it killed him! Levitating them upside-down was not good enough for him, he needed something that would terrify them completely...

Just then, a snake slithered into Riddle's room. Despite never having seen, let alone heard of, a snake, Riddle wasn't intimidated. He just let the snake curl up around him and said, "That idiot boy thinks he's so special! I'll show him!"

"What did he do?" said the snake. As was previously mentioned, Riddle had never heard of snakes so he didn't find it abnormal in the least that he could communicate with one, and he just explained the whole thing angrily. The snake hissed.

Seeing its poisonous fangs, Riddle was struck with an idea. Not only would no one be able to know it was him so he could avoid punishment (he had seen the cane being used on other orphans as punishment before) but he would also be able to get back at the Whalleys spectacularly.

"Would you mind doing me a favour?" Riddle asked. The snake smiled, if that was even possible for a snake but it looked like a smile to Riddle so he said; "right, what I need you to do is..."

The next day, Riddle acted completely normally. He woke up at his usual time, came downstairs at his usual pace, at breakfast with the usual look of having better things to do while staring out the window in his usual manner, and was just continuing on with his day in his usual indifference and pretended not to notice the snake that was slithering out of its hole it had created the night before in the wall.

It slid maliciously across the floor to where the Whalleys had jumped up on the table to avoid the snake. But that didn't save them, they were paralyzed whether by fear or something more sinister of Riddle's doing, as the snake prowled silently up the table leg.

Just because the snake was silent didn't mean the room was; everyone was shrieking and running upstairs after Riddle, who was sitting in his room, perfectly able to hear everything that was going on. He smiled in a satisfied sort of way.

The snake had now wrapped itself against all three of the Whalleys twice and was hissing at the youngest one threateningly. They chose this time to become un-paralyzed and start screaming as if their lives depended on it, but then again it probably did.

Mrs. Cole finally noticed the screaming that had been going on for quite a while, expecting a spider at the very worst, not a full grown snake. At the sight of it she shrieked and hid herself in her office, and immediately called animal control. Riddle heard all this bit didn't call off the snake or tell it to escape; what was the point of going down there? He wanted the Whalleys to suffer as much as possible, even if it was only a second more, and besides, the stairs weren't made for his small legs and there was no use troubling himself.

This was not the first time Riddle let his friend –not friend, as Riddle did not care at all what happened to the snake at all, but ally, maybe –get killed because he didn't want the bother of going there to stop it.

**AN: I REALLY need a name for the orphanage, I can't go around calling it "The orphange" forever. Yes, as you might have guessed, I'm really bad at coming up with names. JKR invented Tom Riddle and Mrs Cole and the Whalleys.**


	3. Revenge

Ever since the snake incident, more and more snakes slithered into Riddle's little orphanage room. They were quite useful for revenge; everyone seemed to be scared of the snakes. The best part was that they were all huge cobras and pythons, or deadly vipers. Riddle hadn't killed anyone yet; the victim had always been found and cured while the snake was smacked repeatedly in the head with shovels, chairs, and once, a yo-yo.

Riddle was very angry about the yo-yo incident –how could such a small and useless object kill a much larger and more powerful snake? He felt revenge was in order.

He searched the entire orphanage, but found only one person with a yo-yo. So, he met up with that person, which happened to be the youngest Whalley brother, and demanded that he hand over the yo-yo. The Whalleys were too arrogant to figure out that Riddle was behind the snake, so they continued their bullying of him, and did not react well when Riddle demanded the yo-yo, especially since Riddle was not that much bigger at four than at two.

"No, you bloody bastard!" said Whalley Junior. Riddle was referring to him by the nickname the orphanage kids had created for him. "We're not giving _anything _to _you_!"

"Then I'll just have to take it myself," sneered Riddle.

So Riddle went back to his room, where the snakes under his bed slithered out and hissed to know what happened. Riddle told them all to be quiet and glared in concentration out his small and dingy window.

Whalley had gone back to his room, and told his brother what had happened. They all gloated at denying Riddle, and none of them noticed their door open by itself. They also didn't hear the squeak of the rusty drawer as it slid open. They didn't notice the yo-yo float out and leave.

The door to Riddle's room and his topmost drawer opened simultaneously. The yo-yo floated into the drawer and Riddle released his look of concentration smugly.

The Whalleys noticed the missing yo-yo the next day and reported it missing to Mrs. Cole, who said she'd look into it but didn't. The Whalleys were angry and were convinced that Riddle was their stepmother in disguise so they had to get back at him superbly. They decided to ambush him one night.

They waited until midnight, when they thought Riddle was sure to be asleep. Then they snuck into his room, and found him sleeping peacefully on his bed. Whalley Senior punched him in the stomach. This of course caused Riddle to sit bolt upright in shock.

"You can't get away with that easily, stepmother," said the middle Whalley.

"Why you little!"said Riddle, not liking being called mother. The Whalleys were thrown out of the orphanage, flying far away at the speed of sound. They ended up on the other side of London and had to be dragged back after a thorough police search. After this, they avoided Riddle completely.

Riddle, however, expected them to be gone forever and scurried into their room and stole everything, to make it look as though they had left of their own accord. He hid everything in various drawers, and no one except him ever saw them again.

The Whalleys were scared, and Riddle was left alone for quite awhile. But then, eight years later, Riddle got into a bit of trouble with Billy Stubbs.

Riddle's snake friends had quadrupled in the amount that they were visiting him, and their food supply was running out. They were becoming weak and were dying off, and soon Riddle wouldn't have any more slippery serpents to do his dirty work. He decided that if he got them a bit of food, then they would be able to do one last vital errand before he was on his own.

Billy Stubbs lived in the room across from Riddle, and had been there for barely a year. His parents had been killed in a car crash while they were drunk, and no one knew any other relatives of his so he was sent to the orphanage. He brought his pet rabbit, Fluffy, with him as his only possession from his previous life.

So one crisp Sunday morning, Riddle went to ask a favour from Stubbs.

"Hello, Billy," he said sweetly.

"Hello," said Stubbs warily. He had never talked to Riddle before and the other orphans avoided him for no apparent reason.

Riddle sighed. "You're so lucky, Billy. You had a nice family who raised you to be smart and kind. That's more than I can say."

Billy was shocked. He had not expected Riddle to come and wallow in self pity for him. He knew Riddle must want something...or did he? Riddle just looked so sad and Stubbs couldn't stand others being sad.

"I'm sure your family was great, Tom," Riddle scowled at being called "Tom" but Stubbs obliviously continued, "they probably just got murdered by someone seeking to steal their fortune. You're going to grow up to be rich, because I know you're going to find them, Tom!" Billy had given a nearly identical lecture to other orphans and it had seemed to brighten their mood drastically, but not for Riddle. Riddle just scowled at the ground and thought that yes, he was going to be rich but not from some inheritance. He was going to get that money whether it be by stealing or blackmail or something else.

"You can say that, Billy, but it's not true." He looked at the ground as the his whole world was going to end.

"Aw, come one Tom," Billy looked around for something to distract Riddle with, and his eyes fell on his rabbit, "have you met Fluffy?"

"No," said Tom, looking up, "is that your rabbit?"

"Yes," said Billy proudly.

"Can I borrow him for the night?" asked Riddle. He was too eager, a mistake he would not repeat in the future. Stubbs was not yet warmed up enough to Riddle to grant him this request.

"Er, no sorry, Tom," he said.

Riddle glared at him angrily, which Stubbs did not miss. This angered Stubbs too. "Well, he's my rabbit and I don't particularly want to part with him for practically a stranger!"

"So that's how it is?' glared Riddle. "How about I hang it on the bloody rafters then! Bloody hell, I'll do it!" he yelled. The rabbit's cage unlocked and the rabbit scampered out.

At this, Stubbs glared at Riddle. He had lost his one reminder of his previous life! "I hate you!" Stubbs screamed.

And then Stubbs was one the floor, writhing in pain. "You will not speak in that manner to me ever again." Said Riddle coldly. Then he erased Stubbs's memory of the whole thing, and left to see Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop, two eight year olds who lived in the two rooms adjoining with Billy's, standing at the door. Riddle scowled at them, he would get his revenge on them next week when they went on their yearly outing.

During that week, Riddle was in a foul mood. He had overheard Benson and Bishop "tattling" in him, and had been forced to hang the rabbit on the rafters where Mrs. Cole removed it and buried it instead of feeding it to his snakes. All the orphans were terrified of him and gave him an even wider berth than usual.

The next Monday, they all climbed into a large bus, which drove them to a rocky seaside village. There was a spectacular view of the waves and the air smelled very salty. The orphans all huddled around the edge of the cliff to see the waves, Benson and Bishop included.

"Let's go exploring!" Benson said to Bishop. The two were very good friends.

"Can I come?" asked Riddle. The two were still scared of him after what they had overheard, and they didn't want to be his next victim so they agreed. Too bad that they were already on said list. "oh good," said Riddle, "I know the perfect spot."

And so they climbed down the cliff, unseen by the matron. Though the rocks were harsh and slippery, none of them fell somehow. It was a rather difficult journey, and Benson and Bishop kept glancing down at the terrifying waves below them. They were unable to protest, though they both felt like bursting into tears when they were halfway down; their nerves had had it with the constant threat of falling to their doom. They were constantly splashed with sea water from the waves crashing into the rocks below, and the lower boulders were half-submerged in water and even the ones above them were impossible to get a good grip on because of their wetness. Both Benson and Bishop were sure that they had fallen and were about to die several times, but all the times they were glued back onto the rocks, almost magically, and were forced to continue the treacherous descent down.

"You see the cave there?" asked Riddle happily. He enjoyed the looks of terror on Benson and Bishop's faces; this would teach them to mess with him, the fantastic Tom Marvolo Riddle! "That's where we're heading. I hear the inside is just gorgeous." He lied; he had never been in a cave and had heard that most caves were dank and dark –the perfect spot for terrorizing his little victims.

"But we'll have to swim there!" cried Bishop. He had always had a fear of water and the cold sea spray splashing onto him was not helping.

"Exactly!" yelled Riddle, as though this was the best thing in the world. It was, for him anyways, he would not get wet and Benson and Bishop would be terrified once he was done with them... and they wouldn't even know it was him!

Finally they reached the bottom. Riddle splashed into the water confidently and swam seemingly effortlessly, and emerged onto the other side, completely dry. Benson and Bishop were too scared to even step foot into the water, but then they "slipped", and the waves pushed them toward the cave, not letting them take a breath for the entire journey. They emerged beside Riddle, soaking and shaking with fear and with cold, and then Riddle made a polite gesture to let them go into the cave first. When they didn't go, Riddle said, "it'll be warmer in there," and this caused them to run in as though their lives depended on it. Riddle entered calmly after them.

They were on a very narrow rim of rock that was sloping downwards into the water. Benson and Bishop were cowering against the wall while Riddle seemed to be in his element. He was; he enjoyed terrorizing people but he was scared of the dark, and the cave was very dark. An unnaturally little amount of light came in through the entrance, giving the whole cave an eerie look. However, Benson and Bishop were far more affected by the lack of light than Riddle, who merely asked them, "well?"

Bishop said, "i-it is w-warmer in-n here," through chattering teeth. Benson nodded mutely in agreement, also shivering. They were both looking at the centre of the cave, where the water was the deepest. The waves were less intense here, though they did exist, coming in from the shallow channel that had led them here from the outside. The black lake seemed to intimidate Benson and Bishop, who were now trying to climb the cave wall to get away from it. They were not having very much success.

"Are you scared of the lake?" asked Riddle, amused.

"N-no," shivered Bishop at the same time Riddle gave her an invisible foothold. She got a bit up before Riddle removed the foothold, and she tumbled backwards into the chilly lake water.

The waves pushed her to the centre of the lake, where the sea plants that grew under the lake found new energy and twisted around her. She thought they were hands, and she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Riddle pretended to look scared and jumped away from the water, assuming a horrified expression identical to the one Benson wore. He pushed himself flat against the wall, somehow managed to trip and joined Bishop at the centre of the lake. Their shrieks reverberated loudly against the walls of the cave, until Riddle had had enough and released them. They floated back to the rocky rim and scampered out, preferring the cold to the "hands" that had grabbed at them from the centre of the lake.

They stood outside on a small platform, not wanting to jump into the channel that led back to the ocean.

They stood there silently, until Riddle asked, "was it that bad?"

They both nodded, looking down so they could avoid eye contact with Riddle; they didn't want to admit how scared they had been.

"Oh, come on, it was just a bit of water!" said Riddle tactlessly.

"It was not!' said Benson angrily.

Bishop agreed. "It felt like hands were pulling at us from the bottom of the lake, trying to pull us down! We could have died! I sat that cave was haunted!"

"We'll have to tell everyone about this when we get back, we don't want it to harm any more people, now doe we?" said Benson.

But Riddle did not want to be told on again, that would go against this entire plan. So he said, with a scared tone of voice, "I read in a book that anyone who enters a haunted place and lives to tell the tale will be cursed if they tell anyone! Now, you two are young, so you probably didn't know this, but I see it as my duty, being three years older than you, to inform you that if you tell anyone else, the ghosts that haunt the cave will come back to get you! They will never let you rest, even when you are dead! You will join them and wait for all eternity to grab someone else and drag them to the bottom to get your spot so you can be free... Does that sound pleasant?"

Benson and Bishop shook their heads, still shivering.

"Good, because it isn't! We should just tell everyone nothing happened and we just went exploring, or else they will get us! Speaking of them getting us, what if they leave the cave and try to get us here? We have to swim back, and fast, or they will forever haunt us!"

So the trio jumped into the water and swam as fast as their little arms would carry them. They made it back to the boulders faster than they had come to the cave, for now both natural means and Riddle's force was pushing them towards the boulders.

The climb up was just a scary as the climb down, and now they were in even more constant danger of falling as they were now going against gravity instead of towards it. They were also not restrained from protesting, and both Benson and Bishop were sobbing when they finally reached the top, hardly any drier than when they had been back at the bottom.

Riddle realized that while Bishop and Benson were too small, scared or wet to notice he was completely dry, Mrs. Cole wasn't. So he went from impeccably dry to completely soaked in a matter of seconds just as they were climbing over the edge of the cliff, and it was a good thing he did this, too.

Mrs. Fisher, Mrs. Cole's assistant, had just noticed three of her charges were missing and was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. When she saw that they had returned, Bishop just gave a vague story of going exploring and then tripping and landing in the water. Mrs. Fisher didn't look very convinced, but both Riddle and Benson confirmed her story and she couldn't come up with a better explanation so she just let it be.

For the next couple of weeks, Riddle's mood was much better now that he had had revenge against all those who had bothered him. His snakes had found a new food supply which looked like it would last them awhile, so technically he shouldn't have been angry anymore so he would stop harassing the other orphans, right?

Wrong. Instead, the trip to the cave had awakened a new desire within Riddle, He discovered he enjoyed terrorizing those who did not have the special ability to make whatever they wanted happen, and that was everyone in the orphanage, including the matron and her assistants. Everyone living in the orphanage was terrified of Riddle, and anyone who stepped out of line had things suddenly missing, or a horrible accident, or suddenly felt horrible pain for no apparent reason, or was never seen again, depending on the magnitude of their "crime".

The orphanage was a bleak and scared place, at least until a couple of weeks later, when a very strange man appeared on their doorstep with a very strange reason to be there...

**AN: Even as I was reading this, I noticed a lot of things Riddle did that were unexplained. Those who have not read Harry Potter won't get it, but those who have know exactly what it is. For those who haven't, let's just say Riddle has a special ability that will be explained in the next chapter...**


	4. The Strange Man

**AN: The conversations here that are in italics are written by JKR. I did not make them up, nor Tom Riddle, Billy Stubbs, Amy Benson, Dennis Bishop, or Dumbledore, or anyone else that you recognize, that's all JKR's work. I will make up a few characters in the future, though...**

"Strange" man was an understatement. The man who had arrived on the orphanage's doorstep (**AN since people decided not to review and leave suggestions for the name of the orphanage, it'll just stay "the orphanage". If you don't like that then hurry up and leave a suggestion! Sorry if that sounds rude, but "the orphanage" is really getting on my nerves...)** was like no one the orphanage had seen before.

For one, he had a waist-length beard of auburn, to match his equally long hair, also auburn. He was wearing a boldly cut suit of deep purple velvet, and this showy colour attracted the eyes of many on the busy London street. This tall man disappeared from site when he passed the iron gates of the orphanage.

He knocked once on the grim door of the grim building, and Mrs. Fisher opened the door. She had been washing the dishes from the orphan's lunch and was still wearing her apron, which did not help her perplexed expression as she took in the strange man's sense of style. This man, however, did not seem affected in the least by her odd look, quite to the contrary, he said calmly, "_Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?"_

Mrs. Fisher seemed to regain control of herself and yelled over her shoulder, "_Oh, um... just a mo'...MRS COLE!" _Mrs. Cole shouted that she was coming. "_Come in, she's on 'er way."_

Dumbledore stepped in but did not have to wait thirty seconds before Mrs. Cole came downstairs, mumbling to herself. She stopped immediately when she saw the strange man; she was evidently just as surprised as Mrs. Fisher. However, the man showed no reaction to her response; merely held out his hand and said "_Good afternoon." _Mrs. Cole was too shocked to take his hand, so he continued, "_My name is Albus Dumbledore. I sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly invited me here today." _

The man's name was just as strange as his appearance, and Mrs. Cole knew that she could not have dreamed such a person up, so she blinked and said, "_Oh, yes. Well -well then- you'd better come into my room. Yes."_

She led Dumbledore dazedly into her small office in the corner of the bottom floor. It was messy and mismatched because they bought single pieces of furniture off cheap garage sales and Mrs. Cole was just too busy to keep the room organized. They took their seats.

"_I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and arrangements for his future." _Said Dumbledore, clearly eager to start.

"_Are you family?' _asked Mrs. Cole, clearly not wanting to let one of her charges leave easily, especially with a man who was such had such an eccentric appearance.

"_No, I am a teacher," _Dumbledore said calmly. "_I have come to offer Tom a place at my school."_

"_What school's this, then?"_

"_It is called Hogwarts."_

"_And how come you're interested in Tom?"_

"_We believe he has qualities we are looking for."_

"_You mean he's won a scholarship? How can he have done? He's never been entered for one."_

"_Well, his name has been down for our school since birth-"_

"_Who registered him? His parents?'_

Apparently, Dumbledore had had enough of Mrs. Cole's questions. He seemed to be determined to take Tom whether Mrs. Cole wanted him to or not. He handed her a piece of blank paper that had previously been on Mrs. Cole's desk. Confused, she took it.

"_Here. I think this will make everything clear."_

Mrs. Cole stared at the paper, and suddenly she had a feeling that Tom should go to this school and everything would be all right. _"That seems to be perfectly in order." _She said, dazed again. Then she looked back at her desk, where two glasses and a bottle of gin had appeared. Mrs. Cole had no memory of putting them there and had not noticed them before, but she assumed one of her assistants must have left it there. Too bad for them, she thought; she was rather fond of gin.

"_Er- may I offer you a glass of gin?" _If she was going to drink it, it seemed rather rude not to offer some to this man. She was rather eager to finish it before whoever had left it here came back and took it away.

"_Thank you very much," _said Dumbledore, who seemed to be made very happy by this simple offer.

Mrs. Cole poured both of them a very generous amount, and immediately drained her glass. Oh, how she loved gin! She smiled at Dumbledore.

"_I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle's history? I think he was born here in the orphanage?" _asked Dumbledore, clearly aware he had an advantage and eager to make use of it.

Mrs. Cole told Dumbledore the whole story while refilling her glass twice. She was enjoying herself; she loved telling stories almost as much as she loved gin.

Mrs. Cole finished her story with another smile at Dumbledore, helping herself to a fourth glass of gin. She now had two clearly visible pink spots high on her cheeks. She loved talking... it wouldn't be too bad if she told Dumbledore a little more, right? _"He's a funny boy." _She said.

"_Yes," _said Dumbledore expectantly_, "I thought he might be."_

"_He was a funny baby, too. Hardly ever cried, you know. And then, when he got a little older, he was...odd."_

"_Odd in what way?"_

"_Well, he-" _Suddenly, Mrs. Cole had a horrible idea. What if she told Dumbledore what Riddle had done and he decided to leave him here? Riddle was just a nuisance and she would be quite glad if he was removed from her plate, but she did love telling a good story. She had deemed Dumbledore trustworthy, though, so she decided to make sure that she would indeed be released from the burden of Riddle. "_He's definitely got a place at your school, you say?" _

"_Definitely," _said Dumbledore, again showing no reaction to what Mrs. Cole was saying.

"_And nothing I say can change that?"_

"_Nothing."_

"_You'll be taking him away, whatever?"_

"_Whatever."_

Could she trust him? Mrs. Cole decided to stand by her previous decision and elaborate on why Riddle was odd. _"He scares the other children."_

"_You mean he's a bully?" _said Dumbledore, still showing no emotion whatsoever.

"_I think he must be, but it's very hard to catch him at it. There have been incidents...nasty things..." _she frowned, remembering all the times Riddle was told on, and then he denied it and there was a frustratingly large lack of evidence, so he was let off. To distract herself, she took another gulp of gin. Then she told him, with even more rosy cheeks, about Billy Stubbs's rabbit hanging itself and the events that had occurred on the summer outing. She toned it down a bit; she was afraid that if she showed him just how badly Riddle had gotten to his victims, he would be left here for her to deal with.

"_You understand, I'm sure, that we will not be keeping him permanently? He will have to return here, at the very least, every summer?" _

Mrs. Cole was shocked. She had expected him to be gone permanently, and for her to be completely rid of him forever. She told Dumbledore this, but decided there was nothing she could do about it and offered to let Dumbledore meet Riddle.

He accepted, so they went upstairs to Riddle's room. Riddle had been planning revenge on Martha Stewart, who had been spotted hiding in his room for some reason. Riddle was very possessive of his territory and would not let anyone come in, so when Dumbledore entered, he was immediately angered.

"_How do you do, Tom?' _asked Dumbledore, jerking Riddle out of his train of thought. He stared at the hand, and then decided that it would be best if he took it.

Dumbledore took the only chair in the room, and sat on it beside Riddle bed. Riddle thought this was rather rude, ; he had not given the man permission, after all, and added him to the list of people to get revenge on. Say, why was this person here anyways? Did Mrs. Cole finally manage to prove that it was him terrorizing the students? Had she gotten a mental health professional to look at him?

"_I am Professor Dumbledore."_ The man said.

All of Riddle's fears seemed to come true in one second, and when Riddle got scared he got angry. _"Professor? Is that like doctor? What are you here for? Did __**she**__ get you in to have a look at me?" _he pointed angrily at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left. His face now had a faint red tinge.

"_No, no," _said Dumbledore. Riddle might have believed him if it hadn't been for the smile. It looked challenging to Riddle, as though it said "Yes, I'm from a mental hospital and I'm here to take you there to be doomed and you won't even know about it or even be able to do anything about it!" Hah, he'd show this arrogant idiot, no one messed with Tom Riddle..."_I don't believe you! She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"_ he commanded as he had done to many an orphan.

Dumbledore continued to show no reaction whatsoever. This made Riddle extremely wary; it was as good as a confirmation that he was indeed doomed for an asylum. "_Who are you?" _he asked, he thought he at least had the right to know his captor's identity.

"_I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school – you new school, if you would like to come."_

Riddle was scared, angry, and wary, and this was not a good combination for him. He leapt off the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, towards the door, saying "_you can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from isn't it? "Professor". Yes, of course – well I'm not going, see? The old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!_

"_I am not from the asylum. I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you-"_

"_I'd like to see them try," _said Riddle. All his life, anyone who had tried to force him to do anything had failed and been punished severely, and he wasn't about to change that now.

But Dumbledore pretended as though Riddle had not said anything. _"Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities-"_

"_I'm not mad!" _said Riddle. Was this Dumbledore's way of telling him that he was crazy? Because he wasn't, and this idiot could go boil his head for all he cared, and he wasn't going to go to an asylum!

"_I know that you are not mad. Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic."_

This shocked Riddle. He had expected for Dumbledore to go on about "special abilities" and the like, not start talking about the supernatural. He knew he was special, the things he did to terrorize his fellow orphans, no one else could do that... but was Dumbledore lying? He looked back and forth between each one of Dumbledore's eyes, seeing if one of them would betray that Dumbledore was not indeed telling the truth like Riddle has previously commanded him to.

"_Magic?" _Riddle whispered, still shocked.

"_That's right._

"_It's...it's magic, what I can do?_

"_What is it that you can do?"_

And so Riddle told him everything he was thinking out of pure happiness, with a very strange look on his face; he was smiling, but it was not a normal smile that you'd see on a normal person, it was a scary smile, almost the smile you would see on an evil beast. But even in this moment of weakness, Riddle was not too giddy to think. He wondered how Dumbledore knew when no one else did. Was it because only wizards knew they existed? Was Dumbledore a wizard? So he asked.

"_Are you a wizard too?"_

"_Yes, I am."_

"_Prove it." _Riddle was using his commanding voice again.

Dumbledore was finally showing some type of reaction; he had raised his eyebrows. "_If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts - "_

"_Of course I am!" _How could I not? Thought Riddle. I knew I was special, and I have no business here learning with the dunderheads, though I'm sure I'll still be far smarter than most of the wizards at Hogwarts –but what does this have to with anything?

"_Then you will address me as "professor" or "sir"."_

Riddle could see this was not someone to mess with, and he had already given away too much. He needed Dumbledore on his side, so he changed his voice to be unrecognizably polite "I'm sorry, sir. I meant –please, Professor, could you show me-?"

Dumbledore took a long stick out of his pocket and pointed it at the wardrobe in which Riddle hid the items he had stolen from fellow orphans. He flicked his wand casually, and the wardrobe burst into flames.

Riddle was shocked. He leapt to his feet. Everything valuable to him was in there, and now this idiot wizard marched in here and set it all aflame just because he had asked for a demonstration –couldn't he have done something else? Like make the wardrobe float or something? That would have shown him just as well as this, he had half a mind to attack Dumbledore right then- but before he could do anything, the flames had disappeared as quickly as they had come, leaving the wardrobe completely unharmed.

Riddle was filled with jealousy at the ease with which Dumbledore was able to perform his magic – it must be because of the stick-thing, "_Where can I get one of them?" _he asked greedily.

"_All in good time," _said Dumbledore infuriatingly. Didn't he understand Riddle wanted a wand **now? **"_I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."_

It was the drawer that Riddle kept his trophies of revenge in. What would Dumbledore do if he found out what was in there? Would he set Riddle aflame too?

"_Open the door," _said Dumbledore. Riddle decided that if Dumbledore did set him aflame, he'd retaliate by throwing him out the window. And there was no harm in the fool knowing what was in there –how could he even know they were stolen?

Inside the drawer, there was a box which Riddle had requested his snakes bring him. He had his box because when anyone came to look for the missing things in his room, he could just take out the box and give it to one of the snakes to hide and no one would know. It was easier than having an entire drawer missing; that would look suspicious.

"_Take it out," _said Dumbledore. Riddle thought this was unfair, so this meddling idiot came in and demanded he take out his private possessions in a commanding voice and Riddle wasn't allowed to ask for the truth? He was liking this man less and less by the second. And what if he did know they were stolen? Why was it that this box was quaking and not the others? It was rather unnerving to not know the fool's intentions, thought Riddle darkly to himself.

"_Is there anything in there that you ought not to have?" _asked Dumbledore. So he did know. But should he confirm it? Riddle looked at Dumbledore –he would probably find out somehow whether Riddle lied to him or not.

Riddle made sure to keep his voice emotionless; he didn't want Dumbledore to know that he was scared of him. _"Yes, I suppose so, sir." _

"_Open it."_

Riddle kept his eyes averted from the objects, he didn't yet want to show any type of emotion and he knew he would not be able to hold back his glee if he did look at them. He tipped them onto the bed as quick as he co"uld; now deciding that it would be best if Dumbledore were to leave.

"_You will return them to their owners with your apologies," s_aid Dumbledore. Riddle was glad to see that the stick-thing was being replaced inside Dumbledore's pockets. _"I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned thieving will not be tolerated at Hogwarts."_

Riddle did not change his expression. Dumbledore said he had to return them with apologies? Fine, he would, then wipe their memories of the entire incident, and re-steal the objects. It was just a waste of time, but if it got this old fool off his back, then he would do it.

"_At Hogwarts, we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have –inadvertently, I am sure- been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic –yes, there is a Ministry," _Dumbledore added this comment out of habit, thought Riddle, for no look of surprise –or anything, for that matter, had escaped his emotionless mask, _"will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All new wizards must accept that in entering our world, they abide by our laws."_

"_Yes, sir," _Riddle thought that he wouldn't abide by the laws, though he would put on a mask of perfection and not allow anything to seep through it, and break the laws he saw fit without anyone knowing. He kept his emotionless mask on perfectly; he was not about to allow this idiot, of all people, know his plans.

Riddle put the objects back in the box, annoyed at how much concentration it would take to re-steal them. But when Dumbledore had set the wardrobe on fire, he hadn't been concentrating at all –was that because of the stick-thing? It must be. This git could not possibly be better at magic than him... he must have bought that stick-thing to help. Riddle would need one too –but how could he afford it? He highly doubted the orphanage would give him money. He might have to steal it...but would Dumbledore know? Perhaps he had a solution. So he said "_I haven't got any money."_

"_That is easily remedied," _this fool probably knew he didn't have any money; he lived in a bloody orphanage, for crying out loud! Dumbledore drew a leather pouch from a pocket, and handed it to Riddle. Riddle took the pouch wordlessly, and took out the first coin his hand touched. It was large, fat and gold, and Riddle examined how the light reflected on it, allowing Dumbledore to continue, "_There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance," _Assistance, the idiot called it? Riddle didn't need any assistance, he would've obtained money anyways, it was just easier this way. But if the fool thought he did 'require assistance' then he would let him think that, it was much easier to get away with things when one is underestimated, Riddle had realized a long time ago. "_to buy books and robes," _Robes? Did he mean like a bathrobe? So the idiot was crazy, after all. He would not need a bathrobe, but he didn't say anything, if the idiot remained crazy, he would go chasing his hallucinations instead of him and that would benefit him greatly. "_You might have to buy some of your spellbooks second-hand, but -"_

"_Where do you buy spellbooks?" _he asked, still examining the gold coin.

"_In Diagon Alley." _Diagon... what a strange name, Riddle thought. He'd never heard of it, and he'd been around London quite often. Perhaps it wasn't in London? "_I have your list of books and school equipment with mw. I can help you find everything-"_

If the fool was helping him, then that meant he was coming with him! Riddle didn't want that, he had always preferred to be alone. Though he still didn't allow any emotion to slip through his mask, he looked up from the gold coin. "_You're coming with me?"_

"_Certainly, if you-"_

"_I don't need you, I'm used to doing things for myself, I go round London on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley – sir?" _Riddle asked, suddenly realizing the fool might think this rude and adding the sir. He caught the fool's eye, to be even more polite, for good measure.

The fool gave Riddle an envelope of thick yellowish white parchment, with a strange seal on it. It had a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven surrounding a large H. He supposed the H stood for Hogwarts and this was their coat of arms or something. Dumbledore told Riddle how to get to a strange pub called the Leaky Cauldron with a lot of detail, detail that Riddle thought was quite unnecessary. He could find the pub between the record store and the book shop easily –he had been there already. However, he did not tell Dumbledore this, the less the crazy fool knew about him, the better. "_You will be able to see it, although Muggles around you – non-magic people, that is," _Riddle didn't like how Dumbledore said non-magic people as though Muggles had the same worth as him. He was of course much better than them –he could do magic! "_will not. Ask for Tom the barman- easy enough to remember, aas he shares your name-"_

Riddle's face twitched slightly before he locked his face back under the emotionless mask; he disliked his name. Tom was too common a name for a person as unique as him, there was already another Tom in this very orphanage, and he wished he could change his name. Unfortunately for him, Dumbledore had noticed the twitch, though he kept his face blank as he answered Dumbledore's query of

"_You dislike the name 'Tom'?" _

Riddle decided that truth was best, if the fool knew whether he would return the stolen objects, he would know if he answered honestly or not. Besides, Riddle couldn't come up with an excuse as to why his face had twitched, and, scowling internally and adding a mental note to keep a better hold on his blank expression, he said, "_There are a lot of Toms." _Yes, there were very many Toms –including his father, as Mrs. Cole had once said. Was his father a wizard? He was sure being magical had to run in the family; he could not imagine any idiot child of Whalley's to be a wizard like him, unless Whalley were to marry a magical woman...so was his father a wizard? Dumbledore would probably know...but wouldn't it be best if the fool knew as little about him as possible? But the question burst from him of its own accord, he had no control of stopping it. He made another mental note to keep his words under better control, too. "_Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they've told me."_

"_I'm afraid I don't know," _though Dumbledore's voice was gentle, Riddle got mad. He decided to confirm it for himself, accidentally voicing his thoughts aloud, he said,

"_My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died." _He was sure of this, if wizards could do magic then of course they would be able to keep themselves alive and something as small as childbirth would never kill them, "_It must've been him." _Suddenly, he realized he was speaking aloud. He was embarrassed at angry, mostly at himself for allowing his thoughts to escape him for the second time in five minutes. He quickly changed the subject before Dumbledore could reply, "_So- when I've got all my stuff- when do I come to this Hogwarts?" _

The question had been pressing on his mind anyways; he desperately wanted to escape the orphanage. He was glad when Dumbledore said, "_All the details are on the second piece of parchment in your envelope. You will leave from King's Crosss Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there, too," _because it meant that there was just over a month until he would leave, and it also meant that he had successfully distracted Dumbledore from the topic of which of his parents had been magic. However, none of this showed on his face, he simply nodded to show Dumbledore he understood and knew how to get to King's Cross- he had been there often, too- and Dumbledore held out his hand.

Riddle took Dumbledore's hand, but then Riddle realized that Dumbledore was going to leave with the impression that Riddle was someone who would easily submit to anything asked of him. He quickly searched his mind for something to impress Dumbledore with...and his mind came to the snakes which were currently under his bed. After some time, he had discovered that only he could speak to them, and now he wondered if that was because he was a wizard. He didn't want Dumbledore to know they were under his bed, if he was banned from keeping them there, it would be hard for him to get them to do his errands. So he said, "_I can speak to snakes, I found out when we've been to country trips –they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?" _

Dumbledore's pause seemed like a very long time to Riddle, he searched Dumbledore's eyes but he could not see whether he had impressed him or not. He realized that this was showing emotion, and he quickly wiped it off his face and stood there impassively again. Finally, the fool said, "_It is unusual, but not unheard of."_

Riddle noticed Dumbledore's eyes moving curiously over his face, so he had impressed, despite the fool's casual tone. Good. They stood like that for a moment, Riddle wondering if Dumbledore would find what he searched for in his face, but then the moment was over, the handshake broken.

"_Goodbye, Tom, I shall see you at Hogwarts." _said Dumbledore, stepping away and out of the room. Riddle heard his steps going down the stairs, and smiled to himself as he sat down on the bed and a snake slithered around him, he would impress the fool even more at Hogwarts...

"Goodbye to you too, **sir, **but you have not finished with me." Riddle smiled his trademark evil grin, the grin that had scared away several little girls and boys, and lay back down on the bed, imagining his beautiful revenge on the strange man.

**Sorry this one took so long to update, but it was pretty long, too. I tried to skip over as much of the dialogue by JKR as possible, and put in observations by Riddle and Mrs. Cole instead, to make it more my own. It's kind of depressing that only one short bit of dialogue was written by me; the one at the very end. The next chapter will be Riddle returning his stolen objects and re-stealing them, and maybe Diagon Alley too.**


	5. Thwarted

**AN: Sorry for the ultra-late update, but my Internet was down and I couldn't update. I got so mad that I couldn't read The Invisible Girl, my new addiction, that I stopped writing this. Only once I started taking my drug again was I able to string enough crap together to create this chapter. It's even crappier than usual because I wrote this at about 2 AM.**

**Anyways, special thanks to Triciaxy for the name of the orphanage: Divine Refuge. Anyone reading this should also go read the Invisible Girl by her; it's possibly the best fanfic on this whole site. I might warn you about something highly addictive in that story; once you start, you can't stop. By the way, this chapter is dedicated to her. I'm going to dedicate all my chapters from now on...**

**And without further ado, the next chapter begins!**

The next day, Riddle took out the box of stolen objects again. There were so many that he couldn't even remember all the insignificant people he had stolen them from...and some of the owners had left the orphanage. Because of this, he decided to just write a note (Dumbledore had not said a verbal apology, now had he?), copy it for the amount of objects there were, and then make the note give off forgetfulness as soon as the victim was done reading. Then the objects would be re-stolen to a new location (a hole in the wall behind the wardrobe)-just in case the fool was watching that drawer- by him summoning them, and then the waste of time would be over before lunch.

Riddle sent out the objects with the notes, but found something was preventing him from pulling them back. He concentrated harder. It didn't work. Scowling, he went downstairs for lunch, to see his fellow orphans talking about the mysterious reappearance of their "lost" objects.

"No wonder this place is called 'the divine refuge'," said a little girl who had just arrived at the orphanage a month ago, "some divine force must have sent back all these things!"

Riddle thought he wouldn't exactly call Dumbledore "divine", but didn't comment. He was extremely glad he had not signed the notes.

So, the fool thought that blocking his magic in this way would stop him from getting back his prizes, did he? He would just do it the Muggle way, by going to each object and manually bringing it back to his new hole.

After breakfast, Riddle snuck off to Katherine Parker's room. He had stolen a pen from her; a simple black pen that was nothing special whatsoever. But he had heard Katherine bragging loudly about how it had been given to her by her father, and at a place like the orphanage, anything given to you by a parent was legendary. When Riddle took the pen from her, he did it to hurt her for not keeping quiet about the time he had snuck in late from stealing some snake food –not that it mattered anyways, he had erased her memory later. He knew the pen was her most prized possession.

He searched the room, and found it inside a drawer right underneath the desk. Katherine had probably thought she had hidden it very well –but in reality, Riddle had found it in less than two minutes. But when he tried to leave the room with it, it wouldn't work.

He had just stepped outside the room when the pen flew back into its drawer. Scowling, Riddle tried a second time-but it still didn't work. He decided that spending any more time here was risky in case Katherine decided to come back to her room, and left.

In his own room, he collapsed on his bed and glared at the ceiling. He had concluded that Dumbledore had not only been watching to see if he returned the objects, but if he tried to re-steal them. He had underestimated the fool, right after giving him plenty of information about him. This could be a fatal mistake for his plans in the future –for even at that age Riddle was sure that he was going to live forever and take over the world.

He got up abruptly, throwing his blanket at the wall in frustration. Then he suddenly adopted the same calm, blank, unreadable expression he had tried to maintain all through his meeting with Dumbledore, turned around and walked out the door, and into the yard outside, hardly pausing to grab a yellowish envelope and a worn pouch from the seat of his chair.

The kids of the orphanage were allowed to come here anytime they wanted, as long as the matron had not told them to be elsewhere. He sat near the exit, waited until no one was watching, and headed on towards Diagon Alley.

He had decided that throwing things and glaring was going to get him nowhere. He would present the model of a perfect student at Hogwarts, and when he graduated he would deal with Dumbledore. It was no good worrying about him now.

He reached the pub Dumbledore had called "the Leaky Cauldron". He had been here once before, but had left rather quickly...

Riddle was eight. He had snuck off to downtown London to see if he couldn't find a place that would hold the Whalley brothers –who had become more and more annoying through the years... somewhere deserted. The unknown and hard to access basement or attic of a shop would do...but he didn't have time to search each shop thoroughly so he was just going by how they looked on the outside. None had looked promising, though, and his search continued.

Eventually, he reached a dingy little place between a bookshop and a record store. No one was looking at it, and no one was heading towards it or coming out of it. It appeared to be completely deserted, and Riddle supposed that if he found a windowless room in there and locked it from the outside, it would serve his purpose just as well as an attic or a basement. He headed inside.

Contrary to his previous belief, the place was not deserted it had several people inside, drinking strange concoctions that Riddle could only assume was wine, and so he headed out. It was apparently just a barely used pub, but as he was turning towards the door, he noticed that one of the more sickly-looking drinkers in the far corner appeared to have fangs, but when he looked again, the drinker's teeth were not visible.

Shaking his head, Riddle stepped out, sure that the light was playing tricks on his eyes. Because there was simply no such thing as vampires, but in light of recent events, Riddle was wondering whether that was true.

He approached the barman, "Hello," he said politely. If he was going to present the perfect student facade to Dumbledore, he didn't want to spoil it by being rude to others in case the fool came to speak with them.

"Hello," said the bartender. One of his teeth was turning a nasty shade of black; it would be falling out soon. It was in great contrast to his other pearly white teeth. He only made note of this in case he needed to send his snakes on this man in the future –this was quite a distinguishing feature.

"Hello, Tom," said Riddle, "I'm Tom Riddle. I'll be needing your wand to enter Diagon Alley." It was a command, not a request. He already had a bad first impression of the man –he disliked everyone with the name Tom and was planning to change his own name as soon as possible. That, coupled with the fact that the way Tom smiled –he kept his lips away from the black tooth- made it look like a disrespectful sneer, and Riddle would not tolerate disrespect on any level. He made a mental note to make sure to send his snakes in this man later –perhaps steal an expensive bit of wine from behind the bar as a trophy once Tom had been terrorized enough. Only one bottle? Nah, he'd steal the entire stock and store it somewhere it could cause trouble to bug the Muggles and Tom in one go...Riddle started planning this as Tom told led him to a back door.

They faced a plain brick wall with a couple of bins on front of it. Though they looked new, they were rather unused –perhaps because Tom was a madman and had led him to nowhere, so of course any trash bins here were unused! Riddle was about to magically kill Tom as the strength of his rage threatened to overflow when he saw the archway opening to reveal a crowded street.

Quickly covering up his anger, which had not yet been seen by Tom, he resumed his blank expression. He nodded politely to Tom, and continued on to the street.

**Don't blame me for the extreme failedness (Microsoft Word says that's not a word, I say "go boil yer head, Microsoft" –next chapter is dedicated to who can tell which HP book had that in it)or shortness of this chapter, I am NOT a night person. Or a morning person. As soon as it gets near eleven, I get really cranky, let alone at two o'clock...I'm probably gonna sleep till 7PM tomorrow, so if I don't review your stories till then, that's why.**


	6. Diagon Alley

**I dedicate this chapter to Emily Mae, because even though she didn't guess who it was the only person who did was anonymous and I can't really dedicate it to them, can I? **

**The letter italicized is based off JKR's letter in HP and PS but I have changed a few parts because I highly doubt they'd be giving the exact same letter for so long. All names of the authors are random things that popped into my head; do not blame me for their extreme randomness. Also, they are all male because females weren't allowed to be that big a part of society back then.**

Diagon Alley was possibly the busiest street Riddle had ever seen. It had more people in it than even Charing Cross and Tottenham Court Road put together! He suspected this was because it was the only place to go to in all of Britain –it said as much in his letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Armando Dippet_

_(Order of Merlin, second class)_

_Dear Mr Riddle,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will find enclosed a list of all necessary books, equipment, and such, all of which can be purchased on Diagon Alley. _

_Term begins on the first of September. We await your word of acceptance by no later than 31 July. _

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Riddle reread his letter, even though he had basically memorized it. It gave him a thrill to see the proof down in ink that he was special, that he was a wizard.

He looked around at the shops, wondering where to start. At the top of his list seemed an efficient, quick way. So he took out his list and read it:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Uniform_

_You will need_

_Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_One plain pointed hat_

_One pair of protective dragon hide gloves_

_One winter cloak, black with silver fastenings_

_All clothes should carry name tags; Hogwarts is not responsible for lost or stolen items._

_Set Books_

_ALL pupils MUST have a copy of EACH of the following:_

_A Beginner's Guide to Spells by William Treeliner_

_The History of Magic, from the Beginning to Now by Percius Poight_

_How to Transfigure, vol. 1, by Spence Lansky_

_100 Easy yet Useful Potions, by Bruce Boiler_

_100 Magical Plants by Burney Burnt-Knee_

_A Guide to Understanding Magic by Tennyson Robertson_

_Protective Spells, vol. 1 by Shamus Shameworn_

_Other Equipment_

_This equipment is MANDATORY. Students without these will be unable to complete their studies properly and will not make it to second year._

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (radius: 7 ½ inches, height: 15 inches)_

_1 set of glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set of scales with clearly labelled weight_

_25 rolls of three feet parchment_

_3 quills_

_8 ink bottles, filled, or_

_1 ever-lasting ink bottle_

_Students may also bring ONE pet (no dragons or Acromantulas please). The pet is not mandatory._

So, first he would need his robes. There was a sign down the street that said "Robes for School, Work, and Every Occasion!" so he headed over there.

An old lady was running around frantically, trying to catch up with the orders of many other Hogwarts-age students. Apparently, this time of year was very busy here.

"I'm going to go open another Robe shop down the street," said a middle-aged woman waited rather impatiently in line, "even if my prices are outrageously expensive and I have no experience whatsoever, I will still attract customers wishing to avoid this line!"

"It's not the line that's bad," said a man who appeared to be her husband, "it's the smell of all these Mudbloods..."

While Riddle was very interested to hear what the word "Mudblood" meant, he had seen a sign down on the right half of the store that said "second-hand", and knew he would have to get his robes there.

A young and annoyed-looking girl sat there with no customers whatsoever. When she saw Riddle, she immediately jumped up and started pointing out all the items on sale, but Riddle didn't have time for this, he wanted to be done shopping in one day, if possible. So he interrupted her and told her to give him the cheapest second-hand Hogwarts robes possible.

She led him to the back of this half of the shop, and started fitting them on him. The cheapest robes were ripped in several places and the thread was coming loose in many others, but it cost only five Sickles so Riddle took it.

He didn't get so lucky with the other two sets; they were less worn and frayed and were thus two Galleons each. He also bought a hat that looked ready to completely fall apart for three Knuts, but found that the only pair of protective gloves were not dragon hide and had such a hole in them that they could barely be called protective. So he bought an extremely worn cloak for two Galleons and a Sickle, and headed to the first hand section for a pair of gloves.

But then he saw a girl who looked about his age leaving with a pair of gloves on the top. They didn't look particularly girly, so he snatched them from her as she was leaving, and then heard the mother say to her "Tricia, I'm sure we bought you a pair of gloves –where are they?"

He hid the gloves in his hat and continued on to the book store (_Flourish and Blotts). _He found that his books cost only ten Galleons when bought as a set (Back to School special!), and was sure that he could come back later and buy some more books with all the savings he was making.

He bought a cart that could be converted to a trunk from a vendor for three Galleons and dumped all his purchases into it; they were getting rather heavy. He continued on to the wand store (_Ollivanders, Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC). _On his way there, he noticed Tricia glaring at him, and looked into his cart. The hat was facing outwards, with the gloves clearly showing.

He nodded absently at Tricia, keeping a mask of indifference on his face, but when he rounded the corner, he quickly fixed the hat.

He would have to watch out for Tricia at school.

Riddle reached the store and noticed the gold letters were peeling and faded. Whether this was for effect or because Ollivander didn't feel like renovating, Riddle didn't know, but he didn't like the store nonetheless.

"Ah, a new young man here to get his wand," said a man in his mid-twenties. He pierced Riddle with his wide, pale, grey eyes, and Riddle instantly hated him. He resolved to keep a cool exterior though; this man could be reporting to Dumbledore and he was going to get his wand here, after all.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," he said politely, "I am looking for a wand?" He didn't mention he wanted it cheap; a cheap wand wouldn't work as well as a new one and this was one place where it DID matter to him.

"Ah, yes, of course," he smiled eerily, "your wand hand is your right one, yes?"

Riddle nodded, assuming right wand hand to mean right handed.

He took out a measuring tape from seemingly nowhere, and measured Riddle's arm. He then left the tool to its own devices and began roaming among the shelves.

Riddle looked around the interior of the shop. It was as old and faded as the exterior, and full of dust. (**notice how Riddle doesn't notice the magic like Harry does) **He felt a sneer rising to his lips but he stopped it; Ollivander could be watching.

"Try this one," he said, emerging with a wand, "see, here, at Ollivander's, we use three magical cores; unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and dragon heartstrings. The outside is simply a kind of wood. Right now, the one I'm giving you is thirteen and a half inches, beech wood, and dragon heartstring."

Riddle took the wand but it was snatched out of his hand barely before he had held it.

"No, no, it's all wrong –here, try this one, nine and a half inches, holly and unicorn hair."

Riddle hadn't even taken this wand when Ollivander took it back.

"This one's even worse than the last one! Try this, oak and dragon heartstring."

"No, no, hmmm, how about this one, mahogany and phoenix feather."

This one lasted in Riddle's hand long enough for him to wave it, but it was snatched out of his hand rather quickly, too.

Riddle must have tried every other wand in the store by the time Ollivander emerged once more from behind his shelves carrying a wand like it was a priceless treasure.

"This wand," said Ollivander, pausing dramatically for effect, "this wand is going out to a powerful wizard. He will do great things, amazing things. Are you that wizard?"

Riddle took the wand and waved it. Green and silver sparks emerged from the tip, landing on the floor and clearing the dust there. Riddle felt a powerful feeling in his hand, as though he could defeat the greatest wizards of all time, easily.

"Thirteen and a half inches," said Ollivander, ruining the moment, "yew and phoenix feather. That will cost seven Galleons."

Riddle paid and headed out to buy his cauldron, not letting the wand distract him, though it didn't leave his hand for the rest of his time at Diagon Alley.

Riddle bought a simple used pewter cauldron for ten Sickles, glaring at the blond boy buying a gold one in front of him in line. This boy had blond hair and cold, grey eyes, though they were not eerie like Ollivander's.

"Abraxas! Make sure to get the g- oh, you have. Good," said a blond woman. She would have been good looking except for her scowl, which she saved for certain people, mumbling "mudblood" or, occasionally, "blood traitor" under her breath.

Riddle thought Abraxas was a strange name, but ignored the two as his turn to pay for his cauldron had come.

Walking through Diagon Alley, he passed another vendor selling everything remaining on his Hogwarts list for twenty Galleons. All of the things looked very used, as though they had been handed down a couple hundred times, but they seemed to be still usable. Riddle approached the man, who was redheaded.

"Hello there, young man," he said, smiling, "going to Hogwarts, are you?"

Riddle looked into the man's eyes. He had done this a couple times before, looking into someone's eyes to see if what they said was true. Now Riddle looked into his eyes to see if what he sold was still in working condition.

He slyly snuck through the man's memories, gathering that he was Sherwood Weasley, here to sell his children's used Hogwarts things. Had he had another child, he would have given these things to him/her so Riddle assumed they were usable. He took one of everything left on the list, and headed back to Flourish and Blotts.

He had twenty Galleons, thirteen Sickles, and a Knut left. He was sure he could buy some extra books, perhaps something that might help him find out how magical his father was?

He bought _Hogwarts; A History, _because it had a list of prefects up until twenty years ago, so he was sure he could find his father in there somewhere. He also bought _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, _if his father was going to be anywhere, it was here.

With ten Galleons left, he bought a book on charms _(Charms and How to Use them)_, thinking it might be useful to be able to do some extra spells.

He headed back to the Divine Refuge, thoroughly distracted from his plans of re-stealing the objects he had been forced to return.

Flipping through the charms book, he saw a charm that said how to make people forget things. He looked up, and noticed all the other orphans staring at him with his odd packages in a cart when he had no money to buy any of them. He smiled and waved his wand in one swift motion to include all of them, and whispered "_Obliviate!"_

Having completed his first spell successfully on the first try, he walked arrogantly into the deserted orphanage; everyone was either in their rooms or playing outside.

He approached the staircases hesitantly; he couldn't exactly drag this cart all the way up, now could he? He remembered reading about a Hover Charm, allowing objects to float, and he decided that he would get the cart into his room by magic.

"_Wingardium Leviosa," _he said, confident that his second spell would work just as well as his first.

It did.

Riddle went into his room, locked his door, setting the cart on the side of the room and began reading _Hogwarts: A History._

**Next chapter will be dedicated to the first person who can give me a list of randon names good for future characters. Remember, this story takes place about a hundred years ago!**


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